The Life of Twins
by Union Jack Off
Summary: Drabbled AmeCan with a little bit of FrUk thrown in. FACE family AU. Character death(s). Erm, yeah. Basically the story of the twins' lives. Pretty short and too the point. Hardly sweet. Nothing too explicit.


**Muahaha! Hey people who happen to read this. I really appreciate it. Just saying...  
Anyways! This is pretty much drabble... It started as something that was supposed to be a whole long story, and then kind of got condensed because I was being pretty lazy. It's only rated M for _brief_ mentions of sex. Nothing explicit. Um, homsexuality, and incest. If that stuff bugs you... Oh, and also, I should warn you, character death(s). TT-TT Have fun. R&R and all that good stuff. PM me if you find any errors? Please? -Al Word Count: 1,111. :D**

They should have known, when their adopted twins cried to be more than two feet apart. They should have nipped that in the bud. Maybe then things wouldn't have gone so far in the wrong direction.

When they turned nine, and they still refused to sleep in separate beds (let alone separate rooms) , Arthur knew now that they should have pried them apart- while there was still a chance.

At age twelve, it could still be considered experimenting when Francis found them making out in their shared room. They had looked like deer in headlights, so surprised to be caught. When asked to explain themselves, they had constantly exchanged questioning glances. It was as if there was telepathy at work. They still hadn't stopped bathing with each other.

Francis had also discovered them at age fifteen, in the bathroom, and held Arthur as he cried about his baby Matthew giving his innocent Alfred a blowjob in their house. By then, they'd known that they'd lost the chance that they'd had to prevent this. Still unwilling to accept it, they'd resorted to drastic measures, and sent both boys to different boarding schools.

By age seventeen, both twins had been kicked out of multiple schools: Alfred for an obscene amount of fights, which he always one, and Matthew for surprising promiscuity in his all-boy dorms. At this point, they;d given up hope in trying to stop this. They brought both boys home. They put two separate beds in their room, in a vain attempt to try and keep up images, only to find that they's been pushed together after the first night Alfred and Matthew had returned. After nearly two whole years of wishing and praying for their boys to live normally (by societies standards), they were unprepared to find them mostly naked (boxers) and tangled in each other's equally long limbs.

Alfred's head was tucked under Matthew's chin, a contented smile on his otherwise frowning face. He was unhappy and hostile at being torn away and distanced from his twin. Now, by the matching smile on Matthew's face, it was clear that they were ecstatic to be back together, even in sleep.

When they turned eighteen, they legally had their names changed. The graduated with honors from the local high school and got accepted to the same college as dorm mates. No one at the high school knew about Alfred Jones' and Matthew Williams' secret relationship. They moved out to their dorm, wiping Arthur's and Francis's tears as they went. They assured them that everything would be alright. They spent their late nineteenth birthday saying goodbyes.

Christmas break was their first visit home, and by then, Francis had at least somewhat come to terms with their relationship. He was still shocked when they came down to breakfast openly kissing, and holding hands.

The next morning was worse. They weren't kissing as much, really. Matthew just seemed overtly smug with the slight limp Alfred had developed overnight. Arthur was shuddering in mock horror at the thought of... that. He quickly dashed from the room. His reaction reminded Francis much of Alfred's when he found out that, indeed, he and Arthur had hot passionate sex right down the hall from their bedroom. Francis left the boys to themselves and went to console his flustered husband. They were back in school about a week later, kissinf their fathers on both cheeks as they left.

Both boys graduated at age twenty-five; Matthew had a degree in psychology, Alfred carrying his own in veterinary medicine. By this point, they had their own apartment, a dog, and two cats, named Barty, Scone, and Rose respectively. Life was looking up for them. A year later, they were legally married. Their fathers and college friend who didn't know about their past were the witnesses to their affection.

A couple months after they'd turned thirty, they decided to have a child. Their surrogate mother, a petite, raven haired Japanese woman named Sakura moved in with them for the duration of her pregnancy and the baby's infancy. She was decidedly impregnated with Alfred's sperm, and quickly made friends with the two boys. All three gladly took the steps towards parenthood.

Halfway through her term, it was discovered that Thomas Matthew Jones (their kicking baby boy) no longer had a heartbeat. An emergency C-section was performed, to try and save the baby, but the attempt was futile. The umbilical cord had wrapped around Thomas's neck, starving him of vital nutrients and oxygen, killing him slowly. Three hearts were fraught with painful emotion for weeks, before Sakura moved out. She kept constantly apologizing, knowing that the men had now given up their dream of starting a family.

Two years later, Matthew had the horrible luck to get into a tragic car accident. A drunk and raging driver had plowed into the driver's side of his tiny car, as he drove home from the small psychiatry office he ran downtown. Alfred sat numbly in the emergency room with him after his severe injuries had left him in a deep coma.

Alfred visited every day after work for two years, trying to go on with life as he knew Matt would've scolded him into doing. His pets were sent to the pound, and he moved into a less expensive apartment when the lease was up, struggling to pay the rent. Arthur and Francis had moved in with him for a very brief and forgettable six months, before easily giving up on what they thought was a lost cause in their son. Alfred became a permanent fixture in the hospital. The doctor working to get Matthew back prescribed him Xanax. After another whole year of waiting, he informed Alfred that it would be merciful to pull the plug. Alfred vehemently declined, but after six months...

Alfred was addicted to his drugs. He was constantly returning to an unhappy pharmacist to refill his prescriptions. They'd cut him off, and at this point he was getting desperate, down to his last bottle of pills. He told as much to Matthew's unconscious form, doped up. Fingering the last twenty doses (four, at the rate Alfred was popping them), contemplated. He leaned over, kissing his wonderful brother, who had been so many things to him.

Hesitantly, he unplugged the machines vital to his lover's life. Matthew had been cold and unresponsive for too long already. Alfred swallowed nearly fifty pills, the first few dry, and the rest with the water kept on the nightstand in case Matthew were to shudder awake. Curling up with his dead husband, he joined his world in permanent slumber, at the young age of thirty-seven.


End file.
